


fairy-tales by the fireplace

by iuwui



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: A Tin Box, Are My Summaries Really This Bad, Cats, Fairy Tales, I Would Die for Louis from WayV, Magic, Nobody Reads This, Reality is Blurred Around the Edges, Short & Sweet, Some attempts at humor, The Golden Fish, The Sun and The Stars and The Moon, Yes I Am Back After A 260 Day Hiatus, bluebeard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:02:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24110266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iuwui/pseuds/iuwui
Summary: alternatively: taeil tells stories filled with magic and wonder to his unofficial protégé, haechan---Perhaps it is a bit strange that the roses bloom at all times, but mystery makes it all the more delicious. Mystery is the spice of life. Donghyuck would rather wonder why something happens than have an answer set in stone. Imagine and create and believe. Ideas are the strongest. And magic is real.
Comments: 29
Kudos: 10





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [im_soft_ok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_soft_ok/gifts), [hypegirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypegirl/gifts).



> Welcome! This is short, sweet, and designed to force me to crank out a chapter every day until we reach the end. Each of these stories can be read as stand-alones. I'm going to ungift my other series and give this one to hypegirl and im_soft_ok (i know, i'm sick of me too) for always inspiring me.

There’s a house, at the very edge of town.

It is in shambles. The shingles falling off, the yard overgrown with wildflowers. The color is all but gone. The palest of yellows, clinging on for dear life, less of a color and more an afterthought. The La Croix of paint jobs.

The parents warn their children to not go there, to never test what resides within. Fortunately, Donghyuck is bad at listening to directions.

He wants to know what is so horrible in that idyllic little cottage. Others call it creepy and haunted, but the blooming roses and cracked birdbath have always been romantic, rather than scary.

Perhaps it is a bit strange that the roses bloom at all times, but mystery makes it all the more delicious. Mystery is the spice of life. Donghyuck would rather wonder why something happens than have an answer set in stone. Imagine and create and believe. Ideas are the strongest. And magic is real.

Donghyuck knows this fact like he knows his age (nine and a half) and his best friend (Mark Lee from the house two numbers down) and he wants to know what witchery lies inside the house at the edge of town.

So Donghyuck Lee, after school one day, tells Mark very solemnly that he is going to the haunted house. Mark is a jumpy boy, the direct opposite of Donghyuck’s bold nature. He does not like the plan. Donghyuck tells Mark to lie for him. 

Donghyuck goes to the house alone.

He thinks back on all this, standing on the mat in front of the door. Donghyuck takes a deep breath and knocks twice.

The door is opened by a man who looks both old and young- timeless -who has an aura about him that is comforting. It is sunny and sweet and safe enough, so Donghyuck says hello.

“I’m Moon,” the man replies. He is wearing a rainbow robe that ripples in the afternoon breeze. It is beautiful.

“Your name can’t be Moon,” Donghyuck replies, disgruntled.

“My name can be anything.”

“You were born with a name.”

“I chose my name. The birth name is such a restricting thing.”

“You can’t just choose your name,” Donghyuck argues.

“Fine. I didn’t choose my name. My name chose me.” 

“Do I have another name, then? Does the universe speak?”

He is sassing. Moon remains unruffled. Donghyuck's respect for the man grows.

“You can be the sun to my moon. Haechan.”

It’s fitting. Donghyuck likes how it is off-beat and different. “Haechan. Okay, then. What else?”

“Didn’t your mommy tell you to never talk to strangers?” Moon continues, peering over his spectacles. They fit him, too, the round rims balanced precariously on his nose.

“Father tells me not to. My mother tells me stories. Of magic.” Donghyuck does not appreciate being patronized. He hasn’t called his Mom “Mommy” in nearly two years. “I believe you have something you’re hiding.”

“You think I have magic?” 

Moon’s eyes sparkle with amusement. Donghyuck wants sparkly eyes.

“How else would your flowers bloom year-round?”

Moon laughs slowly. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.” 

“Magic is in the small things. I pay attention to detail.”

“Well, there is magic in stories. Did you know that?”

“Of course I do,” Donghyuck says. “I’m not five. For gosh’s sake.”

Moon considers him for a moment, then pulls the door open completely. “Come along, then, Haechannie,” Moon says, robes fluttering behind him. “For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.”


	2. The Boy Who Drew Cats

“Are you comfortable?” Moon asks. Donghyuck is sitting on a cushion across from him, both of them near the fireplace. A lemon cake sits between them. The tea is fresh and too hot to drink, especially in the springtime, but Donghyuck doesn’t mind. He holds the cup in his hands, feeling especially grown-up.

“Yes. Quite.”

Moon clears his throat and adjusts his glasses. “Alright, then. Once upon a time-”

“You can’t start a fairy tale with Once Upon A Time! That’s so cliché, so... passé. It lacks originality.”

“The old tales are used for a reason.”

“Also, you better not tell me Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty. Those tales are overrated and stupid.”

“Do you never shut up?” Moon asks, looking like he already regrets his decision to invite Donghyuck inside.

“I only shut up when my points are heard.”

“Okay. Valid. I hear them.” He gives Donghyuck a pointed look. “May I continue?”

“Yes, yes you may.”

“Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there lived a farmer.”

“A _farmer?”_

“This farmer, in his youth, was a handsome man. He married his childhood love, a noblewoman. Their family did not approve of their union, and cut her off. However, they lived a happy, content life. They had three daughters and three sons. The daughters were beautiful-”

Donghyuck scoffs.

“Take a slice of lemon cake. Please refrain from interruptions.”

The lemon pound cake has thick icing over the top, and is one of the most delicious things Donghyuck has ever eaten. He nibbles at it, feeling like a mouse. This is a good feeling.

“-and his sons were strong, helping him labor in the fields. He was prosperous. One day, tragically, his wife passed away giving birth, and he was left with a seventh child, a tiny son. His daughters were married off, and his sons did not know how to interact with the boy.

The farmer was unsure of what to do. So he gave the boy many freedoms, and did not raise him.

In return, the boy was self-sufficient, raising himself. When he came of age, however, twelve summers on the earth, he showed no interest in farming, or working, or menial labor. He was slim and frail, much like the farmer’s wife, and looked as if a strong wind would blow him away.

Stranger still was his fixation with cats. Every time there was paper, he’d poke a stick into the fire and draw with the blackened end. He’d do so in the dirt, and he’d draw with water on the walls, and these cats protected him wherever he went. Or so he claimed.”

Moon pauses to take a sip of his tea. “Goodness, my throat is parched. It’s been so long since I’ve told my stories to another.”

“Well? Keep telling the story!” Donghyuck bounces in his seat.

“Patience is a virtue,” Moon says.

“And death is imminent,” Donghyuck replies.

“The farmer knew not what to do, so he cried out to the heavens-”

“-the heavens? What do the skies know about issues?”

“Perhaps a cloud spirit? Don’t nitpick.”

Donghyuck suppresses the snappy comeback he wants so badly to say, and nods.

“I remember why I don’t like children.”

“Aren’t you supposed to tell fairy tales _to_ children?

“The farmer cried out, ‘Oh, what to do with my child! He will not stop drawing cats!’ The heavens take pity, and tell him to send the boy to a monastery. He does as the spirits say, for they are fickle creatures, and you must listen to what advice they give. He sent the boy off-”

“-by himself? That’s child abandonment! Didn’t you just say the boy was fragile?”

Moon closes his eyes for a prolonged period of time.

“The boy travelled to the monastery and met the old monk, who welcomed him and took him in. That first night, the monk took away all distractions, including his cats.

This happened for months, and they fell into a routine. The boy learned his prayers and kept the shrines, and learned medicines and healing. But no matter how hard the old monk tried, the boy kept on creating cats. 

Being a monk, he was too nice to discipline the boy, but gently chided him. 

‘Perhaps going back home would be a better choice?’

The boy refused, saying that he loved being at the monastery, but the monk was getting old and needed someone who could truly keep the temple. So he told the boy that he would move him to another monastery, somewhere where he could continue this life but also have time to play. 

The boy, heartbroken, agreed.

The monk gifted him a real ink set. ‘Listen, boy-’” 

“-does he have a name?”

“Why bring this up now?”

“I forgot because I was busy nitpicking the other parts of the story. You just told me that everyone has a name.”

“Uhhh, Ten! His name is Ten.”

Donghyuck thinks “Ten” is a stupid name. Then again, his universe name is supposedly “Haechan”, so he’s probably not in a position to judge.

“‘Listen, boy, and listen up close. I will tell you once. When at night. Keep to the small.’ 

Ten, unsure if he heard the old monk correctly, nodded. The monk shook his head, told him to continue drawing, and sent him on his way.”

“That’s two people setting the kid on a journey! Does no one care about the boy? Do child services not exist?”

“Oh, my god.” Moon pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters something under his breath, probably a curse word. Donghyuck seems to have this effect on adults. Possibly magical adults that wear rainbow colored clothes and have breezes surrounding them are still susceptible to this.

Donghyuck smiles angelically.

“Ten arrived at the monastery, late afternoon. There was nobody there. Well, there were, but they were all dead. Bodies littering the floor, faces contorted in terror. Ten continued to search, when somebody whispered from the corner.

They were half-dead, and Ten frantically tried to heal them as they explained what had happened. There was an evil goblin-rat, a demonic spirit, that had terrorized the countryside and finally reached their monastery. The other monks were dead, and the rat came out every night, prowling the corridors for fresh meat.

With that final statement, the man passed away in Ten’s arms.

Which wasn’t emotionally scarring at all, or anything.”

Donghyuck nods proudly. Moon is a quick learner.

“He was so cold, and so alone, so he took out his brush, and as the sun set, he painted the walls with his cats.

Remembering the old monk’s words, he hid himself in a cupboard and waited. He was exhausted from his travel, so even though he was terrified beyond his wits, he fell asleep.

When he woke up, the sun had risen. He climbed out of the cupboard, and his cats on the wall had blood-stained teeth and claws.

The goblin rat was laid on the floor and it was dead. The villagers had heard a violent fight during the night, so they had gone to the monastery. Ten was praised for driving away the goblin rat, and the king-”

“Of course the king rewards him.”

“The king gave him a medal and a large amount of gold, and Ten started his own shop. He drew cats until the day he died, and the paintings were sold as protection far and wide across the kingdom.”

“What does that have to do with magic?” Donghyuck asks, curious.

Moon stands up, and goes to his shelf, pulling out an ink set.

“Would you believe me if I told you this was the set the old monk gifted Ten?”

“No, not particularly.”

Moon laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Of course you wouldn’t. Alright.” 

He waves his hand, and a stack of paper appears between them. He picks up the brush, dipping it into the ink, and draws a cat. It starts moving, and licks its paw, much to the delight of Donghyuck.

“Do you want to draw one?” Moon offers.

Donghyuck nods and Moon hands him his own sheet of paper. Donghyuck draws shakily, unfamiliar with the brush, but finishes his cat. It is sloppier than Moon’s, but Donghyuck thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The two eyes blink once, and then the cat jumps off the paper, runs across the walls, and disappears.

“Oh, I forgot to mention. Make sure your cat is missing something. It’ll try to escape otherwise.”

Donghyuck squints more carefully at Moon’s drawing, which is now stretching under an invisible patch of sunlight, and notes the missing paw. 

He peels off another piece of paper, and draws another cat, more carefully this time. He omits an eye, and watches his cat come to life. It rolls around. Donghyuck paints it a little fish. His cat pounces gleefully, and Donghyuck watches eagerly.

“It’s so fun! What else is there? Can you tell another story?”

“That’s enough for today,” Moon says, tearing his eyes away from the cats. He looks at the clock. “It’s almost five. Your parents will be wondering where you are.”

“Oh.” Donghyuck looks at the clock himself. He can’t believe time passed that quickly. “Alright then. Good-bye, Moon.” 

“It’s not good-bye, Haechan. It is until we meet again.”

Moon sees him out the door, and he makes his way down the road. He takes one last peek behind him. Moon’s robe waves in the breeze, and he’s watching Donghyuck.

Donghyuck smiles and hollers, “SEE YOU TOMORROW!”

Then he runs, and doesn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, kudos and feedback are appreciated!


	3. The Golden Fish

Donghyuck can’t sit still. Ten minutes left in the school day, and the teacher has declared it a silent work space. He is fed up. This is tyranny. 

He scooches his beanbag chair over to where Mark is. Mark always chooses to drag his own desk chair to the carpet, which is both time consuming and uncomfortable anyways, but to each to their own.

Mark is wholly absorbed in some greasy mystery novel, so he doesn’t notice the first two times Donghyuck pokes him.

Seven minutes left in the school day.

“Hey, Mark,” Donghyuck whisper-shouts.

Mark shoots Donghyuck a dirty look.

“Bet you wanna know what I saw?”

He’s been dying to tell Mark all day, but Mark had band during recess, and the teacher has wisened up and doesn’t put their desks together. Donghyuck believes in seconds chances. Ms. Bae, it seems, does not.

Mark shakes his head.

Ms. Bae is still up at her desk, probably grading papers or something. Donghyuck suspects Mark has a crush on her or something, because he refuses to get in trouble anymore. Teacher’s pet. Or, as Mrs. Lee had told him the first time he complained, it could be that Mark was growing up. But Donghyuck was always right- what did  _ his _ mother know about Mark?

Donghyuck jabs Mark harder this time. Mark lets out a small, “Ow,” and moves his chair away from Donghyuck. Donghyuck, unbothered, scooches his chair along.

“Okay, Mark, so there was a cat made of ink, and it flew along the walls, and-”

“Donghyuck,” Ms. Bae’s voice says calmly. “Please stop bothering Mark and use the last five minutes of quiet time wisely. You have the rest of the afternoon to play with him.”

Donghyuck feels his face go all hot, but he nods and mumbles a half-assed apology in Mark’s general direction. He moves the beanbag chair back to its original spot and sulks until the bell rings.

“So, Hyuckie, what was the story?” Mark asks. He clutches his backpack with both hands like the absolute moron he is, and Donghyuck is pissy at him for getting in trouble. 

“I don’t want to tell you anymore,” Donghyuck says. 

“Okay, then. I’m still here if you want to talk.”

Donghyuck gives him the silent treatment for about five seconds, then launches in his spiel. “The old house has a boy inside and he’s like magical and has tea and tells stories and has a rainbow coat like Joseph in the Bible but he’s better than Joseph in the Bible and it’s crazy and it’s so so so cool. And then there’s the cat on the paper and it jumps around like it’s trapped but it isn’t trapped and you have to be careful with the magic ink because if it spills it can create messes but I didn’t spill it because I’m careful.”

Mark blinks. “Cool?”

“Yeah. Really, really cool.” Donghyuck pushes the door open and holds it for Mark. “Anyways, I’ve got to go, I promised Moon I’d meet him today.”

“Okay, then. Bye, Hyuckie.”

Donghyuck sprints to the old yellow house, but when he gets there, Moon is already outside, painting the house a faded green. Except he’s just waving his hands in the air, and the color is appearing. His robe today is a light blue, dotted with puffy clouds, and is swirling around him. It doesn’t seem as physical as yesterday’s robe. Donghyuck can’t tell if there’s a hem or not.

“Hello!”

Moon startles, and a spray of green appears across the house’s white trim. He waves his hand again and it disappears. “How would you feel about telling the story outside, today?”

“Does that mean I can help paint?” Donghyuck asks. This is so cool. Epic, even.

“No. Absolutely not.”

Donghyuck’s heart shatters into pieces. Then it heals right back up again, because Donghyuck does not have the time or patience to deal with a broken heart.

“Fine. I won’t help.”

Moon continues to paint.

“How are you doing that?” Donghyuck asks.

“Actually, you should be able to help. Go into the shed and grab a bucket of red paint, and you can work on the door.”

“Alright!” 

Donghyuck makes his way to the shed, and pulls it open. To his disappointment, it does not magically have a giant interior. “Abracadabra,” he whispers. The shed remains the same. He looks around at the shelves, and sees a paintbrush and a couple cans of paint. There are two shades of red, so he chooses the bright one, and makes the difficult trek back to the front door.

“Okay, good,” Moon says. “Start painting.”

“With my hands or with the brush?” Donghyuck asks.

“Brush. Definitely the brush. Also, put the newspapers around, so you don’t drip anything onto the porch.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll start the story, now.”

Moon keeps painting, but he has his thinking face on.

“In a land far, far away, in a kingdom that was located in the land, there was a king. This king was okay and had a handful of problems, but the general prosperity was good. It was an average era and an average king.”

“That’s boring,” Donghyuck says.

“Shh. This average king had two sons- the elder, who was a crude, nasty one, and the younger, who was sweet and had suitors and princesses alike pursuing him.”

“Suitors and princesses?”

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“No. It’s just that it’s weird that princesses are actively pursuing him. I always thought princesses were being pursued.”

“This land likes to promote equality.”

“Oh, cool.”

“The king was also losing his eyesight, so he called the kingdom to him, and asked for a person with a cure. A healer from a foreign land with a name too hard to pronounce claimed that there was a golden fish at the west of the west and just south of the North Sea. 

This golden fish, when killed, had magical properties in their scales that would cure any ailment- including the king’s blindness. It would take thirty days to get there, and thirty days to get back, and this healer was only staying for a hundred days. 

The king said that this was a good plan. He called his two sons to him, and told them the plan.

‘And furthermore, whoever brings the fish to me will receive the kingdom.’

The older prince, Seungri, gleefully accepted. He was planning to tail his younger brother and then steal the fish once it was found.”

Donghyuck grimaces. “What a rat.”

Moon nods. “Yes, Seungri was quite the rat. Lucas, the younger, solemnly agreed after thinking it through, and waved goodbye to the people. (who liked him much more than his corrupt brother) They took off. The journey was long and difficult, and one of the sailors on board Lucas’ ship died.”

“Yeesh, what is with these stories and death?” Donghyuck interrupts.

“I only thought you would enjoy death more than kissing.”

“When it’s relevant to the story. Don’t make a sailor die just to make a sailor die. It makes future deaths seem unimportant.” Donghyuck shakes his head and dips his brush back into the paint.

“Okay. No sailors aboard Lucas’ ship died. After the thirty days journey, just south of the North Sea, they stayed for fifty days and fifty nights, and were on the verge of giving up, when they finally caught the golden fish. Do you see the problem, Haechan?”

“Quite. The stranger was only staying for a hundred days, and already eighty had passed.”

“Exactly. The prince had finally caught the golden fish, but he thought it too beautiful to destroy. He decided to let the fish go free, and return to his father with the tale. For if he brought it back, the fish would be killed for no purpose. 

Seungri was furious when his spies told him he could not steal the golden fish, and took off for another land. Later, it was revealed that he had gotten on the wrong side of a foreign nobleman, and had his head cut off. Quite honestly, he has zero relevance to the story.

Lucas returned to a quiet ceremony, and he confessed to his father. The king was furious, and ordered Lucas to be killed the following morning. The queen, however, heard of this, and asked the execution be delayed a fortnight. 

During this time, she stole a sum of gold from the treasury, and snuck to the dungeon to free her son. She warned him to never accept a servant who wanted to be paid by the month, and left him. Lucas, bewildered, was shoved into a small vessel by himself, with enough food and provisions for two months, and made his way to a faraway island. 

He built himself a home but felt quite lonely, and set an advertisement in the center of town. Heeding his mother’s warning, he rejected five servants who requested to be paid monthly, and finally, a young blonde man of an unknown background came to him and asked to be paid yearly. Lucas accepted, and his new servant, Jungwoo, became his closest friend and companion.”

“Wouldn’t he be Lucas’ only friend and companion?” Donghyuck asked. A drop of paint splattered on the newspaper.

“It’s the thought that counts. 

This island was tortured by an evil monster, but everyone that tried to fight it fell asleep. The local knights, faraway heroes, even the old hag from the mud swamp- gone to try and slay it, and fell asleep in the process of trying. The governor was at his wits end, unsure of what to do. He offered half of the island and the hand in marriage of his eldest daughter to whoever slayed the dragon.

Lucas wanted to, but his mother had warned him to keep a low profile. One night, when Lucas was fast asleep, Jungwoo stole away and met the governor. Instead of the governor’s daughter and half of the island, he wanted a decent sailing ship and the credit to go to Lucas. The governor’s daughter was secretly in love with another, and she jumped at the offer. The governor, perplexed but bemused, let Jungwoo go slay the beast.

The beast was killed by sunrise, and Lucas was given all the credit. All the trapped men and women woke up, and Jungwoo received his requested boat. Along with chests filled with the monster’s treasure, because the governor was a nice person.

Lucas asked Jungwoo time after time where they were going, and Jungwoo did not answer. It took ages, and they fell in love.”

“Whoa, plot twist.”

Moon smiles at that. “Young love, as you know, is a very powerful thing. Lucas promised Jungwoo riches, and Jungwoo replied to never make promises one couldn’t keep. The ocean sped them along, the stars sang of their love, and the two of them were very alone in the universe.

They finally arrived in yet another land-”

“Jeez, how big is this foreign continent?” Donghyuck looks at Moon, who shrugs once and continues his story.

“-which was famous for having a beautiful princess, Yuqi, who had married a hundred and ninety men prior. Each of them died by the next day. The king was about to cry, and Yuqi was very lonely. When a handsome foreign prince arrived at port, with chests filled with jewels, he was welcomed with a feast. 

Yuqi fell in love with Lucas, but Lucas did not want to leave Jungwoo. Jungwoo insisted upon it, and claimed he had his own dealings in this new kingdom. He left. 

Lucas, broken-hearted, mourned. But still Jungwoo did not return. Days turned to weeks turned to months, and Lucas finally fell for Yuqi and her charms.”

“Dang it!” Donghyuck yells, slapping the paint brush against the door a little harder than necessary. 

Moon quirks his lips and continues to paint the wall. “Lucas and Yuqi were engaged, and she was married for the hundredth and ninety-first time. Jungwoo did not go to the wedding.”

“Awwww,” Donghyuck says. He feels so sorry- wait, it’s just a story. He’s so dumb. “Keep telling it, please.”

“That night, before they shared their bed for the first time, Jungwoo returned. He saw people digging a grave, and with a sinking feeling that it was for Lucas, he burst into the king’s court. The king was incredibly confused, but allowed Jungwoo to check the bedchambers before the newly married couple entered.

There was a poisonous snake inside, at the foot of the bed where Lucas was to sleep.

Jungwoo killed the snake and disposed of its body, ordered the people digging the grave to leave, and as the moonlight rose and Lucas and Yuqi went to bed, he filled up the grave by himself.

The princess and the prince lived happily in her father’s kingdom for some time, but news soon came that Lucas’ father had passed away, and his elder brother was missing. He was the king. Lucas, Yuqi, and Jungwoo set off for his land. 

On the way, they all became good friends, although there was always something missing between Jungwoo and Lucas. Something they could never patch up. 

They finally arrived. The kingdom had a new king that they loved, a beautiful queen, and a new era of prosperity reigned. 

Jungwoo was forgotten.

One day, he finally appeared before the king, announcing that he had to go. Lucas, who had not forgotten his original promise, tried to present jewels and riches to Jungwoo in their land, as a nobleman, but Jungwoo bid farewell and blessed the king and queen with a millennia of happiness.

He left, and was never found again. Because, you see, Jungwoo was the golden fish.”

Dead silence.

“Whoa, that was so good!” Donghyuck exclaims. “Seriously, where do you find these stories?!”

“They were passed down by my predecessor,” Moon says. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“I could imagine it all happening! That was really amazing.”

Moon laughs. “Alright, then, come inside.”

Donghyuck sits down on his seat cushion, and Moon rummages around in a back room. Donghyuck watches the time tick past. Moon finally comes out with a carved figurine of a golden fish.

“Okay, let me go get a bowl.”

Donghyuck follows Moon as he fills a bowl with water and sprinkles in salt- “What. It’s salty water. I don’t have an ocean in my backyard.” -and places the figurine in.

The golden fish sinks to the bottom. 

Moon places the bowl on the floor, and waits. “Haechan, would you like some tea?” he asks.

“No, not really. I couldn’t sleep last night and Mom yelled at me because she thought I snuck some of Father’s coffee again. Which I didn’t. His coffee is nasty.”

“That’s good. I should buy some juice boxes for you when you come again.”

The bowl starts bubbling.

“Moon, I’d like to inform you that the bowl looks like it’s going to explode.”

“Oh, this always happens.”

The water starts swirling around, and finally, when it looks like the bowl will crack, a young man materializes. He has a charming smile and golden hair, and the fish figurine is nowhere to be seen. He stretches, dripping water all over Moon’s floor.

“Hello, Moon. It’s been a while! Oh, and who’s the little friend we have here?”

“Haechan,” Donghyuck announces. “Are you Jungwoo?”

“Yes, although I don’t suppose- oh, come on, Moon, you aren’t supposed to tell my story.”

Moon whistles and looks out the window.

“Did you really fall in love with King Lucas?” Donghyuck asks.

“Yes. He was quite a looker, a very charming man. Of course, Yuqi fit him more, I agree, but having someone love you like that was everything. It wasn’t exactly a happy ending for everyone, I sunk to the bottom of the sea and cried for two hundred years, but their kingdom ended up flourishing.”

“Cool,” Donghyuck says. His immense vocabulary has somehow escaped him.

“Jungwoo, you’re dripping water on my kitchen floor.”

“Well, can’t you just magic it away?”

“I mean, yes, but perhaps I don’t want to.”

“You old geezer. You still have some of that lemon cake?”

“Haechan ate the last slice.”

“I’d be mad at you, if you weren’t so cute,” Jungwoo says, leaning over to pinch Donghyuck’s cheek. He gasps. “Oh my gosh, you’re so fluffy! Can I adopt you?”

“No, Jungwoo, you can’t adopt my apprentice,” Moon says, crossing his arms.

“I’m a magical fish, I can grant wishes and give one man renditions of Under the Sea.”

Donghyuck would be lying if he says he isn’t tempted.

“Oh, bug off, Jungwoo. I think I have some raspberry tarts.”

“Raspberries!” Jungwoo says, clasping his hands together. “How lovely of you to offer! We’ll all have a raspberry tart, and then I’ll return, and you can bring little Channie home.”

Donghyuck enjoys Jungwoo’s lively personality, compared to the calmer Moon, and the time flies. The raspberry tarts are also very good. 

“I almost never have visitors, where I live, so it’s always nice to come and bother Moon. Of course, he has to summon me or whatever, so I can’t just pop in and steal all his cookies, but it’s always a great time when he lets me come.”

Moon sighs. “He’s almost as irritating as you, Haechan.”

“You love me, Moonie.”

“I really don’t.”

“Well, that’s a you problem.” 

Jungwoo polishes off his raspberry tart and squishes Donghyuck again.

“I do hope we can meet again,” he says in farewell.

“Until next time?” Donghyuck offers.

“What a polite boy!” Jungwoo exclaims. “Alright, I’ll be going!”

With a flash and a bubble, the fish figurine is back inside the bowl. Moon stands up from the table and picks up the bowl, dumping the contents down the drain. He wipes down the figurine and returns it to the room it came from, then smiles.

“That’s today’s story, Haechan.” He leads the way to the entry way, eyes somewhat distant. "These stories and artifact hold all the magic."

“When can I tell my own stories, then?” Donghyuck asks.

“All these questions. In a bit, I promise. I’m just trying to teach you all I can.”

“Before what?” 

“Before I need to go. See you tomorrow, Haechan. Mind the paint can.” 

Moon waves goodbye and shuts the door, and Donghyuck walks back home, so preoccupied with the turn of events that he almost forgets about asking Moon to paint.

Almost.

But not quite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This writing thing isn't actually that hard! Wow! This week has also been fairly easy for me in terms of schoolwork, and I really enjoyed this chapter. 
> 
> *gimme comments*
> 
> *thank you*


	4. The Princess and the Tin-Box

Moon’s robe today is a shining gray, run through with threads of silver. It reminds Donghyuck of the moon. They are in front of the fireplace today, which is crackling merrily. There is no heat coming from it, just the faint smell of wood smoke. A plate of crackers is set between them, and Moon, true to his word, has obtained apple juice.

Donghyuck stabs his pouch and takes a long sip.

“We’re telling a story of a princess today. And no, they don’t have names, because this was a story from a long time ago, and it was passed down a long time ago, and if I gave them names, it would ruin the meaning.”

Donghyuck has been intrigued.

“Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a king and a queen. They wanted a child dearly. A witch came to them and offered a potion that would give them a child, but the queen was wise and told her husband to bugger off.

The husband reluctantly agreed, and they had a child by themselves, a beautiful baby girl. She had hair as gold as the sun, blue eyes the color of the sky, and the voice of an angel.”

“So…” Donghyuck takes a sip of his juice. “She came out of the womb singing Handel’s Chorus Messiah?”

Moon sighs. “Why do you even know that?”

“I like to educate myself on the fine arts.”

“Anyways, she was spoiled since birth, for she was the only child, but her godmothers-”

“Fairy godmothers?”

“Yes, fairy godmothers.”

“Good. It isn’t a princess without a fairy godmother.”

“Her godmothers blessed her with all sorts of gifts, guaranteeing she would never be greedy or selfish or jealous, but instead be the sweetest, most gorgeous creature. 

  
As such, she was only given the best of the best. Her toys were made of solid gold, decorated by the master craftsmen with sapphires and rubies and emeralds of the finest quality. Her life was a page out of a storybook. She knew not of linen clothes and rubber ducks, for such toys were deemed cheap by the king.

The king, as you may tell, was a bit of an idiot. The queen indulged him his fancies, but drew the line when he started ordering the finest foods for the two year old. How could a child barely teething enjoy filet mignon?

When she turned seven, she attended the wedding of her cousin as the flower girl. The blushing bride was overshadowed by the young girl, who wore a dress of white silk and threw pearls instead of rice.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and takes a cracker off the plate.

“Only the golden nightingale was permitted to sing for her, the voice as delicate and pure as she was. The common crow was banished from the grounds and hunted down, for the king balked at the thought of his precious daughter having to hear the croaks of the black bird. The queen had a queenly headache from her seat on the throne. 

She wore silver slippers and walked the palace grounds paved with topaz, and slept in a bed of ivory. One would think it uncomfortable, but only the best for the princess. She picked flowers made from crystals, enjoyed diamond apples, and drank rosé imported from the finest wineries. As she grew, her beauty increased tenfold. A swan’s song sounded like satanic incantations compared to her voice, Aphrodite dimmed next to her, the arts became second to her very appearance. She was radiant.”

“Oh God, please don’t make her father fall in love with her.”

Moon looks scandalized. “Heavens no! What do you think I run here- Alabama?”

Donghyuck’s guilty face gives it away.

He shakes his head. “Goodness. Of course not. Where was I?”

“‘She was radiant?’” Donghyuck offers. He takes another sip from his juice pouch.

“On the fateful day she turned eighteen, the king sent out invitations to the neighboring kingdoms, five in all. Whatever gift the prince brought that pleased the princess, the king would give her hand in marriage to.”

“Did she have a say in this?”

“Yes. She was tired of constantly being cooped up without a way to talk to others. You see, she was so witty, the court jester balked. She was so wise, the philosophers of the kingdom had headaches after discussing with her. She was so talented, her teachers of flute and harp and violin and piano and voice wept and gave up. She was too good.

She agreed wholeheartedly, and the kingdoms burst into a flurry of excitement. Bets were made and parties hosted, and the whole land was filled with joy.

The five princes arrived on the same day, bearing their gifts. 

The prince, riding a pure white stallion, was from the East, where he had slain a dragon and taken from its hoard an apple made from solid gold. The dragon had guarded the apple for ten thousand years, and, the prince added, he would have brought the head to prove his valor, but thought it wouldn’t match the decor. The princess was pleased. 

The prince placed the golden apple on the table specially built to hold the gifts from her suitors.

The second prince rode a horse that was dappled with red-gold, brought her a caged nightingale made of a thousand diamonds, which sang so purely the princess was brought to tears. Of course, the tears simply made her more radiant, and the second prince fainted dead away at her feet. She thanked him greatly when he woke up, and kissed his cheek, and he headed to the table with a dopey grin spread across his face.

The third prince, on a fiery black mare, brought a great jewel box made of platinum and sapphires, one that had taken the blacksmiths of his kingdom three months in total to make. He spoke sweet words and promised to fill up the box with treasures if the princess chose him. She giggled, and he made his way to the table, where he placed the box with great pride.

The fourth prince had a yellow horse with a golden mane, and gave to the princess a beautiful ruby carved into a heart, with an emerald arrow through it. She could not carry its weight, and four guards arrived to carry it for her.

‘For Cupid, lovely princess, hath doth pierced my heart, and only your love can cure it.’

The other princes scoffed, but the princess laughed with glee, and the fourth suitor felt the most confident. He placed his heavy heart on the table so forcefully it cracked, and then the fifth prince was left.

This fifth prince was the strongest and handsomest of the lot, one who could rival the princess in wit and philosophy, and who could sing and dance like Apollo himself. However, his father’s advisors had been corrupt, and evil wizards and plagues had descended upon the kingdom, so it was the weakest and the lowliest. 

He had ridden in on a plow horse that promptly collapsed of exhaustion and had to be carted off to the stable. He explained that he had created the little tin box by himself, and he had filled it with mica and feldspar and hornblende his people had scavenged for him. The other four princes roared with laughter, and the fifth prince presented his gift with a bowed head. 

When the princess opened the box, she squealed with delight and laughed until tears and filled the whole palace with a new level of beauty. For, you see, having grown up with gold and silver and precious stones, she had never been introduced to such plain minerals, and she thought them most curious, most beautiful.

The prince placed his tin box at the very end of the table, and joined the other suitors.

‘Now,’ the king said solemnly (for the first time in his life) ‘you may select your favorite gift, and marry the prince who has brought it.’

The princes held their breath. The court was out of their mind with excitement. A hush rippled through the hall as the princess stood up and made her way to the table, and…”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“...chose the jewel box.”

Donghyuck spewed his apple juice into the fireplace.

“‘You see,’ the princess explained, purely and beautifully as only she could, ‘the way I see it, this jewel box shall be filled by my subjects and future admirers, and thus is the most precious. I like it the most.’

The third prince and princess were married that very day, a hundred thousand pearls were showered upon them, and she loved every second of it.

And,” Moon finishes, with a smug smile, “this is the power of irony.”

“I did not expect that one.”

“Which is exactly why I told it to you,” Moon says matter-of-factly. “It keeps you on your toes.”

“Do you have anything magical?” Donghyuck asks.

“I think my mentor had the nightingale, although that could have been the emperor’s. Anyways, Haechan, I lost it.”

Donghyuck nods. “Very responsible of you.”

“Thank you. I know. Today’s magic is the power of a plot twist. You see, you have the person invested in the story, and then you take it all away.”

“That’s true. I didn’t expect it.”

“And there you have it, young Padawan. Your story of the day.”

“It was good. It was very good.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Now,” Moon said, rising from his seat, “we will see you out the door.”

Donghyuck follows Moon to the front once more. He slips on his shoes and gives Moon a quick hug, and says, “See you soon.”

He doesn’t see Moon’s surprised face, doesn’t see the shy smile that spreads across his face.

This time home, he does not sprint or walk solemnly, but instead hums a half-melody and wonders how he can tell this story to Mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved this story. 
> 
> *holds hands out* perhaps comments?
> 
> Off topic but You Can’t Hold My Heart slaps.


	5. Bluebeard

When Donghyuck knocks on the door on Friday, it swings open ominously by itself.

He takes off his shoes and looks around. “Hello?”

No response. 

He takes a closer look, and sees a note taped on the back of the door.

The handwriting is small and neat, and the top of the note reads “From the Desk of Moon, Professional Storyteller”. Because of course he has personalized stationery.

_Dear Haechan,_

_Welcome. Today, you’ll be learning a new type of storytelling, which is through reading. Follow the path marked out, and live the story of a boy, not so long ago, named Taeyong. If you survive-_

If?! Donghyuck prides himself on being very self-sufficient, thankyouverymuch. He’ll survive, all right.

_-I will come retrieve you. Our story starts in a little village, and a shopkeeper’s family._

And just like that, the note ends. Donghyuck plucks the sticky off the door and looks around for more clues, where he finds an arrow pointing to the lounge. 

He enters.

The note is very obviously placed on the couch, so Donghyuck picks it up. It feels too foreign to sit down, so he squints at the paper standing. Why was the man’s handwriting so small?

_Taeyong lived above the shoemaker’s shop, with his elder brothers and sisters. They were a poor family, but content. His father supplied quality shoes for the town, and he was a fair seller. Most everyone knew of the Lees, and there was no sort of hidden animosity between anyone. However, this town was lorded over by a rich man who took pleasure in terrorizing the people._

Donghyuck adds the sticky note to the pile. A quick scan of the room reveals nothing, until he looks up on the ceiling.

“Very funny,” he grumbles. The next message is all the way up there, so he steps on the couch’s arm and jumps towards the note. His fingers brush it, he misses, and he crumples into a heap on the floor. Donghyuck, however, is not to be deterred, and jumps back onto the armchair.

He tries again. Misses. Lands with a thud. Repeats. Bruises his knee. Repeats. Veers off course entirely.

Donghyuck blows a large breath out of his nose and wonders how much he can sue Moon for.

He takes another look around the room and sees a step ladder leaning against the wall.

_Oh._

Dragging the ladder across the room, Donghyuck briefly questions his life choices, then shrugs it off and sets up the ladder. He climbs up, easily removes the note, and continues reading.

_This lord was also famous for taking the most beautiful people for his lovers, but once they were married, they disappeared. The lord would take another, and the cycle continued. Taeyong’s cousin had been taken some years before, and nothing had been heard from her since. The lord made an announcement that a masquerade ball was to be hosted, and attendance was mandatory._

Donghyuck supposes he should feel bad, but he isn’t very attached to the character of Taeyong. He exits the room and heads straight across into a formal dining room, which hasn’t seen any use in the past twenty years- and that’s a kind estimate. The plates are set, and the candles flicker alive when he sets foot into the room. Faint music plays from somewhere, strings and piano in a three-four time waltz.

“Totally not creepy at all,” Donghyuck says. At the head of the table, a place card has too much writing to be someone’s name. He picks it up.

_At the banquet, Taeyong hid behind his siblings, who tried to shield him best as possible. The elaborate mask didn’t hurt, either. And it worked. The man at the head- Bluebeard -took no notice. After desserts were served, the whole town entered the ballroom, and Taeyong was safe._

Donghyuck is appalled at the idiocy of these fairy tale characters. It’s a really good thing none of this happens in real life, or the entire world would be in flames. 

He pokes the roasted poultry in the center of the table, and it squeaks loudly.

Rubber turkey. Nice.

He exits the dining hall, making sure to keep his notes in order, and enters the kitchen, where a punch bowl and a plate of cookies lay out. The sound of the string quartet is louder, and the chatter of many people fills the room with noise. The note is underneath the crystal bowl. Donghyuck removes it.

_Believing their brother to be out of harm’s way, his siblings dispersed. Taeyong danced from person to person, quite enjoying it. A handsome stranger, wearing a dark mask came up to him and offered a dance. Taeyong accepted without a second thought. They danced for one song. Another song. A third. They complimented each other perfectly without saying a word._

“Great,” Donghyuck says. “More romance. Thanks, Moon!”

Moon does not respond. 

Donghyuck adds the note to his growing pile and heads across to the living room, where the burned out ashes of yesterday’s fire are still in the hearth. The two cushions are there, and the shelves are stuffed full with knick knacks that Donghyuck knows nothing about. He checks the ceiling. Nothing.

He grabs the poker and prods around the fireplace, finding a corner of paper sticking out. Donghyuck coughs as a plume of ash rises, then blinks the tears from his eyes and continues reading.

_By the end of the ball, Taeyong was in love with this perfect stranger, with eyes like the stars and the composure of a nobleman. The stranger said goodbye, and vanished. Taeyong searched for him, yet could not find him, and in the crowds, dropped his mask. Bluebeard, from his gilded chair, saw him. That night, once all the other townspeople were fast asleep, a knock came at the door._

“They’re so stupid,” Donghyuck laments, before checking the windows. It seems futile, before he accidentally shifts a curtain and a piece of paper comes fluttering out.

_It was none other than Bluebeard, who demanded the youngest son come with him. Amidst a tearful goodbye, Taeyong left his family and his home, unsure if he were ever to return. Bluebeard had them married in a small ceremony, with only the minister present. Then Taeyong was trapped, in a gilded prison, feeling like a caged bird. He did nothing but stay in his room. Taeyong did not take meals with his husband, refusing to eat the trays sent to his room, and only drinking water. He almost wasted away, before Bluebeard ordered him down._

Donghyuck heads towards the back room, which is locked, and has the seventh (or eighth? Donghyuck’s lost track.) note stuck to the front.

_He went for dinner. Taeyong refused to speak. The entire ordeal was tedious and awkward, and Taeyong contemplated how quickly he could overpower the butler and run for the hills. At the end of dinner, Bluebeard gave him a key ring, with many, many keys all over. These were the keys to the palace, he explained, for he was going to go on a trip, far away, to an extremely obscure place. Like Wyoming. Bluebeard told Taeyong he was free to explore, except for the door that unlocked with the smallest golden key. With that, he left, and Taeyong was once again alone._

Donghyuck is unsure where to go, until he sees a staircase that leads upstairs. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen that before. He makes his way up.

Upstairs has two rooms with open doorways, and two closed doors. Donghyuck makes his way to the open doorway on the left. The room has a desk, and bookcases lining the walls, filled with all sorts of books. It’s the sort of place where Mark could get lost in for hours. 

Donghyuck takes a closer look at the desk, which has yet another paper, and a whole tray of personalized sticky notes. It’s very convenient, how whichever direction Donghyuck chooses, the next part of the story appears.

“Moon, are you perhaps watching me?” Donghyuck asks.

_So you’ve noticed, hm?_ The paper reads.

“Oh, this isn’t creepy at all.”

_Don’t worry. You’re doing amazing. Now, for the next part._

The words erase themselves and rearrange.

_Taeyong explored and found wonderful things- rooms filled with treasures, a music library, an aquarium -distractions that almost made him forget where he was. Almost. When the last key left was the smallest golden one, his curiosity was getting the best of him. Determined not to fall for whatever trap Bluebeard had clearly laid, Taeyong unhooked the ring and threw it out the window._

Donghyuck heads a splashing sound, and flashes a big thumbs up to whatever secret camera Moon is using to watch him. Very impression, authentic experience. Five stars on TripAdvisor. 

_The next day, the key returned, sitting on the chain, gleaming merrily as if it had never been thrown out in the first place._

A shimmer, and then the smallest key appears on the table. Donghyuck places the paper in his crumpled stack, and picks up the golden key. It’s surprisingly heavy, and he makes his way across to the next room. It seems to be a guest bedroom. The teddy bear on the bed is holding a paper crane.

Donghyuck unfolds it.

_One night, it was dark and stormy, like the horror novels of the 19th century. A knock came at the doors. Taeyong opened it, expecting his husband, but it was the stranger he had danced with at the night of the ball. He welcomed the stranger, unsure what else to do, and struck up a conversation. The stranger’s name was Jaehyun. He could save Taeyong, on one condition. Taeyong had to open the door of the smallest key._

“Don’t do it!” Donghyuck exclaims. 

He makes his way out of the room, and there’s a note plastered next to the picture of Moon with his family. Moon looks the same, in his flowing robe, serene smile on his face. His sister is much younger, gap-toothed and grinning, his father a calming presence. His mother has the same gentle smile, although more mischievous, like a pixie.

Donghyuck smiles at them, then picks up the note.

_Taeyong took his ring of keys and led Jaehyun to the door. The cellar. It was dark and cold and he couldn’t see anything. He offered to show Jaehyun to the guest chambers. Jaehyun refused._

Donghyuck compares the key with the two locked doors. It does not fit in either. He remembers the locked door on the first floor, and heads down the stairs. Apparently it isn’t storage like he assumed.

Another note, one that was not there before, stuck on the door.

_Jaehyun continued to push Taeyong to reopen the cellar, claiming that there was something in there. Taeyong, ever-gracious, (and still not over his infatuation) opened the door once again. Jaehyun stepped in first, and the staircase was as dark as night. One could not see anything, not even their hand in front of their face._

Donghyuck fumbles with the little key, and pushes open the door. Light switch. He opens to the most realistic scene yet- two men, standing on the top step.

“Hello?” he asks. He receives no response.

_“This can’t be right,”_ one of them says. He’s the shorter of the two, willowy, with large eyes and a face of an angel.

The taller one turns. _“Okay. I’ll stay here. You go get a lantern.”_

_“Jaehyun,”_ the shorter one- Taeyong -says. _“It isn’t safe. My husband will be back soon.”_

_“You still have a few days. You’re fine.”_

Taeyong shakes his head and brushes past Donghyuck. He doesn’t seem to be a solid person. 

Donghyuck walks through Jaehyun, excusing himself. He flicks on the light switch, which doesn't seem to exist in the illusion. He can see both layers at once, as if someone had superimposed the other world on top, like a fine mist.

Donghyuck sees no notes, so continues to go downstairs by himself. It doesn’t seem too strange. Just an unfinished basement. He reaches the bottom step, where an acrid scent pieces his nose. 

He gags and stumbles back.

Taeyong is right behind him, hand trembling. Jaehyun’s face is grim.

_“Oh my god,”_ Taeyong says. He raises the lamp higher. Eight carcasses hang from the ceiling, and the floor is stained brown.

Donghyuck quickly nopes out of there, and heads up maybe two or three stairs- enough to see what’s happening without putting himself in danger.

_“One of them is my daughter,”_ Jaehyun says darkly.

_“You have a daughter?!”_ Taeyong asks.

_“It’s not really relevant to the conversation right now.”_

Suddenly, a large booming noise shakes the very foundation of the house. Before Donghyuck can chalk it up to a freak earthquake tremor, Taeyong gasps.

_“He’s back.”_

The illusion starts shaking, as the carcasses and unfinished basement overlap, and the light flickers out.

Donghyuck did not sign up for this.

He runs upstairs, and shrieks, “Moon!”

Moon does not respond.

Little rat.

What does happen, however, is that Donghyuck goes straight through another person. This time it’s the infamous Bluebeard. Bluebeard lives up to his name. He has a long, blue beard, and towers over Donghyuck. 

_It’s just an illusion, it’s all fake, he can’t touch you,_ Donghyuck reminds himself. 

No doubt Moon would be amused if he peed his pants.

Donghyuck watches the lamp shatter and Taeyong turns ghostly white. Bluebeard makes for the stairs, while Taeyong runs up, blocking the way.

_RUN,_ Donghyuck wants to scream. _RUN AWAY, NOT TOWARDS THE DANGER._

Taeyong throws himself at the man’s feet. 

_“No,”_ Taeyong yells. _“Stop it!”_

Bluebeard turns, eyes wild. _“You!”_

Bluebeard makes a show of grabbing Taeyong by the collar, and sniffs him like a rabid dog. Donghyuck cringes.

_“You been in my room?”_ Bluebeard asks. _“My everything is not enough? My love, my house, my riches? You still opened the door?”_

Taeyong doesn’t make eye contact, while a single tear trickles down his cheek.

_“THEN DIE!”_ Bluebeard roars.

The scene fades.

Donghyuck brushes himself off and gathers his scattered sticky notes, and the top one changes.

_Go to the roof._

He climbs up the stairs, and sees another spiral staircase at the end of the hall that wasn’t there before. When Donghyuck makes his way to the roof, it opens up into a bell tower, and instead of a view of a forest, he sees a sprawling town, from the top of a hill. 

It’s beautiful. 

A meadow filled with flowers is in the distance, dotting the countryside with streaks of red and yellow and lavender, merry puffs of smoke rise in the horizon, while the surrounding forests smell of pine and sound of birds tweeting their love songs. The gentle sobbing of a boy rises, strains of prayers intermingled with hiccups.

Another paper, on the floor. Donghyuck picks it up and scans it.

_Taeyong asked for another hour before he died, in order to say his prayers. Bluebeard gave him thirty minutes, not a second more and not a second less, and locked him up in his room. In this time, Jaehyun crept out of the basement, and found where Taeyong was being held. He claimed he could overpower Bluebeard, but Taeyong refused to take the risk. Instead, Taeyong told him of his brothers that were coming to visit. “Go to the bell tower,” he said. “Every five minutes, I will call to you. Tell me what you see.” Jaehyun nodded, and headed to the tower, unsure of what was to come._

Jaehyun is there, looking at the horizon. He stands tall, wind whipping through his hair, face still and gorgeous, as if carved from marble.

_“Jaehyun,”_ A voice calls softly. _“What do you see?”_

Jaehyun stares into the distance. _“I see nothing but the horizon, and the colors of the meadow, and the smoke of the village.”_

_“Very well, then,”_ Taeyong replies. _“O blood and water, which come from the heart…”_

Donghyuck waits, and again, Taeyong calls, _“Jaehyun, what do you see?”_

_“I see the horizon, and meadow, and the smoke of the village.”_

Taeyong softly sighs.

Another pause. The silence is so awkward, Donghyuck wants to scream, just to hear a noise other than the chirruping of the songbirds.

_“Jaehyun, oh Jaehyun, what do you see?”_

_“I see the horizon, the meadow, the smoke of the village, and a cloud of dust.”_

_“Prithee my brothers, on their mount?”_

_“It must be,”_ Jaehyun says, squinting into the distance. _“They are coming from the left.”_

_“Then it cannot be,”_ Taeyong says mournfully. _“For our own house diverges from the right.”_

Donghyuck wants to hit both of them for being stupid. More time passes.

_“Jaehyun, what do you see?”_

_“I see two men, on horseback! They are coming!”_

_“Tell them to hurry, Jaehyun! I’m almost out of time.”_

The booming voice of Bluebeard yells, _“THREE MINUTES.”_

Jaehyun jumps up and down, waving his hands. The horses in the distance gallop faster, as their riders urge them onwards.

_“Jaehyun!”_ Taeyong cries out, not bothering to be discreet. _“Where are they?”_

_“They are close!”_ Jaehyun shouts back. _“Wait a few moments more!”_

_“I no longer have the time!”_

Donghyuck grabs his papers and makes his way down from the bell tower, where a floor of a castle awaits. The closest door to him is open, and inside, Taeyong is struggling against Bluebeard, who has him in a chokehold.

_“I haven’t finished my prayers,”_ he protests. _“You cannot let a good Christian die without the proper rites!”_

_“Trash,”_ Bluebeard spits out, face furious. _“You have until I finish sharpening my sword.”_

Donghyuck has to hand it to this Taeyong character. He thought the guy had no guts, but he’s a little rebellious. Who would’ve thought?

The sound of metal scraping against stone jerks him out of his thoughts (rather rudely, as well).

_“Our Father, who art thou in heaven, hallowed be thy name.”_ Taeyong takes a deep breath. _“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread-”_

Bluebeard finishes sharpening his sword with triumphant _aha!_

_“Now, for you to die!”_ He screams, chasing Taeyong around. Donghyuck backs out of the way. He might not be able to touch them, but he isn’t taking any risks.

_“-And forgive our traspasses-”_ Taeyong yells back, running around in circles and ducking under Bluebeard clumsy attempts to grab him.

_“Shut up!”_

_“-AS WE FORGIVE THOSE WHO TRESPASS AGAINST US-”_

_“-WILL YOU DIE ALREADY?!”_

Donghyuck looks up as three heavily armored people storm into the room and skewer Bluebeard like a very big, very heavy, very foul-mouthed shish kebab.

_“Well, we arrived just in time!”_ One of them says, high-fiving the other. _“We did good today, Taemin.”_

He takes his helmet off.

Taeyong groans. _“Took you all long enough, I don’t even remember the rest of the prayer.”_

The one that got high-fived laughs. _“Oh, well. Thanks to your friend over here, Baekhyun and I came in to save the day.”_

_“You guys are so dumb,”_ Taeyong says with a laugh.

_“Come on, we’re going back to town,”_ Baekhyun says. _“Mother and Father are simply dying to see you again.”_

_“Could we not joke about death?”_ Taeyong asks, looking at the skewered Bluebeard. _“A bit soon.”_

_“Oh, by the way,”_ Taemin says. _“You’re getting married.”_

Taeyong stops. _“What? Did you not see how my last husband turned out?”_

The third man removes his helmet. _“Taeyong, I really… I fell in love with you the first time we danced. When I left, I was asking your parents’ permission for your hand in marriage.”_

_“Oh,”_ Taeyong says. _“If it’s you, Jaehyun, I’m fine with that.”_

Baekhyun cheers. _“We did it!”_

_“What if I had died?”_ Taeyong points out.

Taemin shrugs. _“It’s a good thing you didn’t! Now, come on, I don’t want to be stuck in this creepy castle any longer.”_

_“What about your daughter?”_ Taeyong asks.

Jaehyun blinks. _“Uh, well, she was more of an adopted daughter. Third cousins, died of the plague a while back. She was seventeen when she came to live with me, I just called her my daughter ‘cause it sounded cooler.”_

_“Oh.”_ Taeyong says. _”Alright.”_

The four of them make their way out, and Taemin turns to Donghyuck and winks.

Donghyuck almost thinks he imagines it until the final card flutters to the ground, dropped from Taemin’s hand.

_So Jaehyun and Taeyong got married in the celebration of the ages, and Taemin and Baekhyun went around saving people in distress and occasionally officiating a bootleg wedding. It turns out Bluebeard had no successor, so Taeyong took his wealth and demolished his castle, and built a nice little cottage on the hill. Jaehyun and Taeyong distributed the riches amongst the land, were elected the leaders, and adopted three children that they loved and adored, all who grew up to live their own epic stories. And they all lived happily ever after._

“That was a pretty good story,” Donghyuck calls out.

The writing shimmers and changes again.

_Thank you, Haechan. I think it’s about time you go home._

Donghyuck nods, and makes his way down the stairs, where everything in Moon’s house is just like before, knickknacks stacked haphazardly, the sun shining through the windows.

He pauses at the door and slips his shoes back on, and closes the door behind him.

_By the way,_ the note reads, _tomorrow, wear clothes you aren’t afraid to get dirty._

“Alright, Moon,” he says. “Have a good night!”

_I will. You have a good night too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please the way i said i would update daily and then
> 
> did this
> 
> sorry guys #yolo


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